


Into the Dark

by Igknight (Minatu)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 16:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1989216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minatu/pseuds/Igknight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale, the Duke of Devonshire, and the handsome youth, Lord Stilinski, have a secret relationship that none are aware of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> "I'll follow you into the dark  
> No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white  
> Just our hands clasped so tight  
> Waiting for the hint of a spark"
> 
> \- Death Cab For Cutie, "I Will Follow You Into The Dark"

It's strange...

Yeah, I know that I shouldn't be saying such. It's not really my place it seems. I've been kicked out. Out of your heart, out of your glowing light that seeps from your every pore. So I have taken to the darkness, as you have always told me I look so lovely in. Yet I long for your light.

Why do you deny me so much?

So, yes, it is strange. I see you surrounded by so many women, clinging and braying at your arm. Yet your eyes always travel over to me as I linger on the edge of the dance floor. Your eyes say you want to speak to me, yet you do not act upon your heart. You are a well-off man, as am I. We both have our pedigrees, well known to polite society.

Stop staring so much.

"Excuse me," a soft, feathery voice. Far from similar to yours, I know. It's a woman's voice. She has nice, full lips and big, brown, doe-like eyes, and she makes me want to bother you. If I were to take her to the dance floor, spin her around, pull her close, make her blush and giggle. How furious you would become with me? Yet you do it yourself. Hypocrisy, I say.

"Ah, yes?" I breathe, leaning forward toward the small lady. She's a bit young, sixteen maybe. Very exciting, I would have to admit. She turns, blushing ever so slightly as she lifts her tiny, gloved hand.

"Oh, would you care to dance?" I ask, taking her hand in my own, much larger one. I do not lift my eyes to look at you. That would give everything away. I make sure to keep my gaze on her. Make myself look like I might have found something good. She blushes a pretty pink. She is quite the lovely thing. I hope she doesn't fall. I'm merely using her, though I'm usually not bold enough to try such a thing.

"Y-yes, of course, Lord Stilinski," she smiled as I pulled her onto the floor. She wore quite the extravagant dress. It was laced with pearl adorned ruffles. A beautiful, pale pink and white dress. I could admire that much about her. Though her nose was a bit pointed, and she was obviously too childishly confident for her own good. I would indulge her only a little.

"So, what is your name, milady?" I ask, placing my hand upon her waist and pulling her closer to me so that I could hear her clearly as well as driving you mad or so I hoped you would be.

"O-oh..." she began, faltering a little due to the question. She was surprised that I hadn't paid enough attention when someone had introduced her to me. She wasn't important at the time, "Malia Tate is my name. I am the daughter of the Baron of Arlington."

"Well, nice to meet you Lady Tate," I respond carefully, touching my lips softly to her knuckles as we danced across the floor in perfect time. I prided myself at keeping time. It took concentration to focus on her. She has such dull colored eyes. They shine childishly, embracing the infantil beauty she harbored. I feel the burn of your eyes following me. Oh, I'm quite aware of the fact that you do not appreciate my actions in the slightest. Yet, I desire this anger. I want you to grow upset. I dare you to stop me.

"Lord Stilinski, I have yet to speak to you all night. I cannot believe my impolite behaviour. Lady Tate, if you don't mind, I would like to steal Lord Stilinski away for a moment," you smile smoothly, and poor Ms. Tate is whisked away terribly easy. Her eyes glaze over as she is met with the realisation of your handsome visage. You are always quite the charmer. It seems that my actions had forced your hand. I am not sorry. I wish to converse with you as well.

"To what pleasure do I owe the Duke of Devonshire?" I ask in the most impersonal way that I can manage. The last time we spoke, we fell into quite the argument though I no longer knew what it was even about. I feel that you may still feel a sort of claim over me though nothing had gone on between us in at least a fortnight.

"You know very well what you were doing, Stilinski," you respond in kind. I do not flinch. The bite of your voice was what I had been hoping for, after all.

"Oh? I was flirting, wasn't I? Am I not allowed?" I enquire, a smirk sliding onto my face. Oh, that angers you. You glare and almost drag me into one of the private rooms but keep your hands to yourself in fear of causing a scene. Luckily for you, I follow.

"You know, that behavior of yours is what really drives me mad, Stiles," you hiss lowly. I try to remain as stoic as possible which drives you impossibly mad. My lips twitch, and a whisper of a grin settles into my heart.

"Oh?" I prompt simply as if this information surprises me. You grab my arms tightly. Your eyes gleam with a sort of frustration that I hope only I can give you. Your fingers slide up my neck, and you pull me in, ravishing me. Your lips crash maniacally against mine. Oh, you are love personified. My heart is filled by that passion of yours. It palpitates at a raging pace, battling against the cage of my ribs. Your fingers burned a path along that cage, sliding across the front then to my back. You tug upward at my shirt, slowly and lightly.

I pulled back slightly, tightening my fingers around your arms leaning forward on you slightly, "Now, Derek." A small smile slides across my face as you growl lowly, nuzzling against my neck lightly, and  _of course_ , I am tempted.

"Not in the middle of a party. People will wonder, you know," I warn gently and you growl again. I run my fingers through your tangles of midnight hair. Your eyes look up toward mine as you whine, nuzzling some more.

" _Derek..._ " I whisper. You begin to pull away but rock forward again, pushing your hands up against the fabric of my shirt, "Come on now... Here, let us leave, yes? Make up an excuse. The Queen calling upon you or something." You keen against my skin, but I muffle with it quickly. You always are quick to act complacent. I pat you quickly, drawing you up into yourself again. You look quite proper as you put me back together again, buttoning up my blouse and smoothing my hair. You smile when you think I look perfect, and it is a special sort that I rarely ever see.

"Well, it appears that I have some urgent business. I believe we'll just have to cut this outing short then, yes?" You take your coat and adjust it around yourself. It looks quite warm, and I would love to be pulled inside it with you against your firm form. It is only a mere wish as such will never happen, especially not in a place so public as this one.

I pull on my soft gloves and bid adieu to the hosts of the gathering. They are a bit distraught that I was taking my leave so early and soon after the Duke. Of course, I have a less dashing excuse as you do with your easy acquaintances with people of a higher pedigree than I really took the time to see after. Nonetheless, I have a carriage in a matter of moments, and it appears you have already taken liberties with it as you sit dashingly with your top hat donned regally.

"Is that a new hat?" I ask, making jovial conversation as you much prefer to my dry sarcasm. I smile ever so slightly as you slide your bare fingers across the brim.

"Got it from the hatter last week," you sound gruff, which is no surprise to me. He often is.

"Was it the one I recommended? It looks like his style, the silk and the gaudy red ribbon is something you don't usually go for," I point out and your eyes flash a deep red at me that only serves to send trembles up my spine. I hum slightly.

"It's the moon, isn't it? A devilish thing, I know," I continue to fill the cool air with my voice. You once said it helped, "But I do happen to like it when you are a little rough." I grin at you, and the look you give me is positively predatory. I am filled with excitement at the prospect, sparing a glance out the window. I figure we are probably a few minutes out from the manor, but who really ever knew how long you are willing to wait for things sometimes. You have a tendency to be chaotic at the least pragmatic times, but really, it was the lesser of two evils.

"Oh come now. It's just a moment longer," I whisper, knowing full well that your sense of hearing has heightened incredibly. Truly, you are a magnificent being, so much stronger and more capable than the average human. It only made you all the more alluring to someone like me, but I could never stand to simply hand you off to another. Perhaps we are equally possessive of one another. A truly difficult thing as unrequitence is much better for our social standings if it were ever to be discovered. The scandal it would be. A little exciting, but I am no fan of being killed for loving.

I turn to you with a sympathetic and endearing expression, caressing your stubble covered cheeks. You are rather lucky that no one finds it unbecoming of you to look so unkempt. Rather, it is terribly attractive.

"Ah, if only I were a lady," I sigh, threading my fingers through your tangle of locks, "Then we could marry, and I could have you every day." You merely hum. I wonder if it would have indeed worked out that way or if I might have been passed over like all the other ladies around you. It is a difficult thought, one I do not wish to trouble myself with for long. Your clawed fingers lift up to my cheek, lightly trailing against my skin.

"You are a special one," you say softly, and I almost do not hear it, "It is much more fun this way, any how." I scoff lightly, and mostly to myself. You are most unbelievable at times. Sometimes I wonder how I stand you. You are quite deplorable, yet some how you seem to dupe everyone I know. They all think you're lovely, and it isn't that I do not agree, it is just... there is so much more to you than they could ever understand.

I sigh in relief as the carriage pulls to a stop. I peer out the window first, making sure nothing is awry before stepping out and waving my man off to the stables. You linger close behind me, and I can almost feel your breath against my neck. It is a charming experience. I wish you would indulge me like that more often. It probably helps that none but the servants will see it.

Quite suddenly you wrap your coat around me, pulling me flush to your fiery heat. I am wearing a light coat, and perhaps you are worried that I am cold. I had not suspected it would snow like it has. It would have been warmer if it had not. I do not like the cold, and this is quite the pleasant surprise anyway. I lean back into you, grinning with my eyes closed. I could not see much anyway. We stand like that for a long time until I finally coax you into the much warmer manor. Boyd must have started up the fireplaces. He was quite the efficient butler, a very praiseworthy one indeed.

"Ah, Boyd, could you tell Rosaline to start some tea?" I say to the butler as we enter the manor. You always hum in agreement to tea. It is a favourite of yours, something that is hard to come by at your own home. There is quite the number of heavy tea drinkers there who have higher priority. I hate to hear about those things. You are obviously one to be pampered.

"Where do you want to-" You are very impatient sometimes. I do like to finish my sentences. It irks me how often you cut me off with those sumptuous lips of yours. It is simply _unfair_! An outrage, I say. Then of course I am caught up in that fervent kiss of yours. The way it just sweeps me away and displacing all of that obviously irrational peevishness. You are wonderfully impatient, and I couldn't enjoy it anymore than I do.

"Come," you rumble, pulling away after a hushed moment. My heart pumps with adulation. I always follow without fail. You know this well. Apparently, your place of choosing is the sitting room, which is simply scandalous. I have guests over in that very room, but I enjoy it all the more when you place such a delicious memory somewhere it is better placed elsewhere.

You ravish me with your lips, exploring and lingering and teasing. You leave marks below the collar and never bite deep. One might think that to be gentle, and in a way, it is true. You are holding back, much more so on a full moon, but you are far from the human sense of what might be genteel.

You are spirited, roaring and eyes blazing with the deep red of passionate strength and ability. I am fascinated by you, completely and entirely entranced. I am enamoured. I wish that I could have you in the most of intimate ways. A binding thing that might seem so insignificant to some, but it is a joining of families that is lovingly approved of. I want it with only you. I gaze up into the striking jade colour of your eyes, whispering at a near pant, "I love you. I love you. I love you." Over and over again I say it, until the tea is sent up, and we pull out of our tiny reverie.

"Stiles," you breathe, gazing deeply into my eyes, "Wolves have a different sense of ... what is proper." I stare at you, nerves fraying at the intensity of your words. I am a little frightened.

"H-how so...?" You smile slightly, setting the tea cup down before pulling me roughly into your laps beginning to nip and tease again, rumbling lowly in the back of your throat before pressing your face against my shoulder and breathing deeply.

"We can be together," you say, your voice a bit muffled by my shoulder and the reverberations tickle me into giving a soft laugh. I do not know how to answer, but my heart clenches.

"Would you have to bite me? You know I cannot do that. I am no good with-" You press another kiss to my lips. You are no good at understanding how much I dislike being interrupted, but I always forgive you before I can ever really bring it up.

"No," you hum against me, and I can only smile. What a commitment out of the most sought after Hale bachelor. I feel very special. I press several kisses to your lips, trying to hold my grin in.

"Then take me. Whisk me off into the darkness, Wolfman," I whisper teasingly, and you give me a look, but I am unrelenting. I do not continue with the teasings, but I do hold them terribly close to my heart.

"I will do no such thing," you tell me seriously, and I almost laugh.

"Oh?" I reply, pausing for more drama, "That's too bad." He snorts, the tiniest of smiles gracing his face. It was all I could ever ask for. His sunshine to be solely focused on myself. I have it, and I would never forfeit it without a battle to the death. You are the best heater in existence, my love.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm an American who just attempted 19th century British. If you notice any mistakes whatsoever, I would love for you to point them out to me. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and have a lovely day.
> 
> ~Fire


End file.
